


piece by piece

by aquamarine_nebula



Series: in the interim [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 16 Year Old Richie and Eddie, Drug Use, Eddie is in love but like. he doesn't know it, First Kiss, Gay Eddie, M/M, bisexual richie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29977821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquamarine_nebula/pseuds/aquamarine_nebula
Summary: It's the night before Richie leaves Derry for good, and Eddie has some idea of how he can forget that.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: in the interim [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2204976
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	piece by piece

**Author's Note:**

> mixture of movie and book canon. probably will end up being some mini-series canon because i pick and choose what i want in MY canon.

At this point, Eddie’s prowess at sneaking out was basically legendary amongst what was left of the Losers.

His mother never really recovered from whatever had happened that summer he broke his arm--the details were fuzzy enough even when they compiled all the information together--and even now at sixteen he felt more like a preteen under her thumb. But, she slept very deeply. More than that, she slept deeply in the living room with the TV turned on, clear the other side of the house from Eddie’s room.

He kept his door cracked open and tried to read comics, finish off that last bit of trig homework he was bashing his head against, and waited for her bear-like snores to start.

They started, and he held his breath for a few seconds before carefully clambering out of his window, finding the trellis and locking his toes in it to start the precarious trip down. He was dreading the moment the trellis finally gave up and broke apart under his weight, almost expected it to now, when it was more important than ever before that he get out of that house, but it didn't creak any more ominously than before and the snores continued their rhythmic lull through the open window.

He'd stashed his bike in next door’s bushes on his way back from school so he didn't have to open the screechy garage door, and before long was free with the wind blowing back against his face. It was sharp enough even in what should be a mild March to make his eyes sting. At least, that was what he told himself to explain the prickle in his eyes.

He would be able to make the trip to Richie’s house blindfolded and backwards, after almost ten years of shipping himself between the two houses, either accompanied by more of the Losers or alone. When he pushed himself, he could get there in eleven minutes. Just enough time to really feel the sinking of his stomach at this probably being the last time he made the trip.

As usual when arriving at Richie’s after dark, he avoided the doors and started the climb up the porch to Richie’s window. More a precaution than anything else--the Tozier’s wouldn't have minded if he stayed over, but it would also be the first call Sonia would make if she discovered he was missing.

He tapped on the window when he made it up, his arms straining from the effort and slightly miffed that Richie hadn't already opened it in preparation, but there was no answer. Eddie’s heart dropped somewhere in the region of his ankles and he hissed Richie’s name, tapping a little harder. Surely he hadn't been so stupid as to get the date of the move wrong, and surely Richie hadn't made plans with anyone else his last day in Derry.

“I swear, motherfucker, if you're not here--”

“Eddie?”

The voice came from above, and Eddie looked up to see Richie’s familiar mess of curls and oversized glasses peering at him from over the lip of the roof. “What are you doing up there?” he asked, still hanging for dear life onto the windowsill.

“Best seat in the house, shweetheart,” Richie crooned. Sorry, Boghart crooned.

Eddie rolled his eyes hard. “Whatever. Help me up.”

His hand reached down, and Eddie gripped his forearm as Richie helped hoist him up. He panted once he finally managed it, lying on his back and staring up at a crystal clear night sky. “That should not have been so hard. Fuck. I'm only sixteen and I already can't do a pull-up.”

Richie shot him an amused look and pulled a drag from his cigarette before answering. “You're a runner, Eds. Not a body-builder.” He punctuated the remark by slapping Eddie’s thigh hard enough to make him yelp, and Eddie retaliated by slapping his arm just as hard.

“Don't call me that, dick.”

Richie laughed with his whole body when he really got going, his head dipping forwards, his shoulders hunching in as they shook. Almost like he was trying to hide his laughter from the world. So different to when he waited for a reaction to his jokes, when he would stand straight with a proud grin on his face. Eddie still memorised it. Who knew when he would see it again.

“That's not a cigarette,” he finally said, when Richie had put it back to his lips for another drag.

“That it ain't, Eddie, my darling.” He shrugged. “Figured this was the best time to buy weed for myself, you know. Seeing as I'm skipping town tomorrow. Do you want some?”

Eddie wrinkled his nose, and Richie winked. “Didn't think so. But you know. Must be a gracious host and all that.”

“You're a shitty host,” Eddie said automatically. “Where are your parents? Surely they don't approve of you getting high on a roof.”

“No, they usually make me choose between getting high and getting on the roof,” Richie said, sincere enough that Eddie couldn't quite tell if he was joking. “They went out with friends. I figured you would be over at some point so I pretended I was...depressed about leaving or whatever.”

Eddie pulled his knees up and shifted on the tiles to try to find a more comfortable position, even as he kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, at the water tower that still made his palms sweat whenever he walked past it, for whatever reason. “Are you? Depressed about leaving, I mean.”

The harsh laugh that ripped through Richie’s throat was so unlike him that Eddie jolted. “Fuck no,” he said in a low voice.

Eddie’s vision blurred, and he tried to swallow around a lump in his throat. He'd been sad when Stan and Bill had left, even more so as he waited for the letters and postcards they'd promised that never arrived, but it was nothing compared to now, knowing that this was likely the last time he would see Richie. Richie may have been loyal here, in a small town with nothing and no one, but he would find his people in Chicago. He would find people better suited to his exuberance and who could fire his jokes back on him with much more wit than Eddie ever could. The last thing Eddie could ever expect was that he could hold onto this friendship that had defined so much of his life.

“Derry’s not for people like…” Richie paused, before breathing out harshly. “I don't belong here,” he finally continued, looking down at his lap.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? Because they'd always belonged with the Losers, with each other, and yet they were being splintered apart piece by piece, nothing more than another piece of luggage.

It wasn't until he felt tears burning tracks down his cheeks that Eddie realised he was crying, and he didn't even think about being embarrassed about it until Richie gave him an alarmed look, gripping his hand and lacing their fingers together. He didn't say anything, instead watching Eddie with wide eyes as his blunt kept letting a trail of smoke whisper through the air.

“I can't believe you're leaving me here, man,” he finally said, wiping his cheeks quickly with his free hand. “Who the fuck am I supposed to cheat off of in trig.”

Richie smiled at him, biting his lip hard and his eyes shining with so much affection that Eddie could barely meet them. “You've still got Ben in our class.”

Eddie shook his head. “Ben’s not you,” he admitted in a whisper.

Richie was still. Probably the most still Eddie had ever seen him, and any other time Eddie would have been relieved at the sudden calm. He cleared his throat, before lunging for the blunt. “Give me that,” he muttered as he yanked it from Richie's hand, though he made no move to even suggest that he would have stopped him. He took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs and hoping it would start acting quickly.

Richie blinked dazedly as Eddie handed it back to him, before narrowing his eyes. “Eds, that was way too experienced.”

Eddie shrugged and waited for Richie to take another drag before stealing it from him again.

“No. No, no, Eds.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie said around the blunt.

“Have you...have you smoked before, Eddie?”

Eddie blew the smoke in his face in lieu of an answer, and Richie broke into delighted laughter. “No, that's not fair, Eds, I wanted to be with you the first time you got high! How did it even happen?”

“You don't get invited to every party, dumbass,” Eddie said.

“And you do?” Richie asked. His pupils were wide as he leaned in.

“More than you, apparently.”

Richie gave a dramatic sigh, falling back against the roof (muttering ‘ah, shit’ as he lost a few inches down the slope) and covered his eyes with one hand. “I don't know how I can recover from this betrayal. To think mine own Edward Spaghedward didn't invite me as his date to those parties.”

“What did you just call me?” Eddie asked, half contemplating pushing him the rest of the way off the roof.

“They were probably just worried that I would steal all the girls from them.”

“Ah, that's definitely it,” Eddie said, injecting as much sarcasm as he could in his tone.

“No, no, it's true, Eds. Whenever I'm around girls it's like...woah, I'm only one man, and sure there's a lot of me to go round, like, so much Eddie, you have no idea, but also my dick very firmly belongs to your mother so there's that--”

“I will push you off this roof, Richie.”

He thankfully stopped, though he was still giggling to himself like a school child.

They finished the rest of the blunt in silence, and Richie started rolling another as soon as it was done. Eddie watched his long fingers work at it, dexterous and sure in a way that made his mouth feel dry. Probably the smoke.

“You want to know something?” Richie said quietly after the first drag. His fingers lingered against Eddie’s when he handed it over to him. Eddie almost shook his head, but instead he shut down the panic that was building somewhere above his diaphragm and waited. “I asked my parents whether you could come with us. Like, genuinely asked whether it was a possibility that you could come live with us. Instead of…” he didn't continue but Eddie understood well enough. “I don't think they believed me when I said how bad it had got. You know. Since…” Words failed him then, though Eddie understood when he was talking about. Not what, never what, other than brief flashes of pure terror and then pure courage. But the ‘when' was The Summer of the broken arm and…

He couldn't complete the thought, and shook his head to clear it.

“But you can come for the summer, if you want,” Richie continued, forcing hollow cheer.

Bill and Stan had said the same before they left, to no avail. But it had to be different with Richie. It was Richie, dammit.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, not really trusting himself to say anything more. There was something wet on his cheeks again, although he wasn't entirely sure if he had just started crying again or if he just hadn't stopped. Richie hadn't let go of his hand in that time.

He hesitantly raised his free hand to Eddie’s cheek, and when Eddie didn't move away gently brushed his thumb over his cheekbones, wiping the tears away.

He was leaving tomorrow. Leaving to be what felt like an entire galaxy away. Some other family would be here, some other kid would be in Richie’s room and hide things under that one loose floorboard and spy the etching the Losers had scratched in another floorboard hidden under the bed. Eddie could blame a lot on this, or the weed, or some shit like how romantic it was to sit together under the stars like this for what he did next, but honestly, he simply wanted to.

He leant in and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to Richie’s mouth, pulling away a few centimetres when Richie froze. He stared at Eddie for a few seconds as Eddie waited for him to yank back in disgust or push Eddie away, but instead he cupped Eddie’s jaw and pulled him in to kiss him again. 

It did feel...a little awkward. He wasn't too sure what to do with the hand that wasn't clasped in Richie’s own, and finally settled on placing it on Richie’s thigh. He wasn't too sure whether he should keep his eyes closed or not--every instinct in him was screaming to keep a look out. He wasn't too sure how to react when he felt Richie’s tongue against the seam of his lips, though Richie’s groan when he let him press it into his mouth made a self-satisfied shiver of pleasure travel up his spine. Richie’s hand went to grip his waist, his own went to Richie’s hair, some instinct or memory reminding him just how much Richie liked his hair being stroked.

In the end, Richie pulled away first, keeping their foreheads together and breathing hard in the space between them. He made a small, plaintive sound when Eddie pulled him in by his hair to steal another kiss.

“Eddie, I…” he stopped himself, screwing his eyes shut tight, before wrapping his arms around Eddie's shoulders and pressing his face against his hair. He was trembling, his breath shaking as he pulled air in and out. Eddie put his palm on his chest to feel his heart thud against it, quick and hard. Almost as quick and hard as Eddie's.

He waited until it had calmed to a more normal pace, before picking up the blunt from where Richie had dropped it, and the Zippo lighter from the breast pocket of Richie’s top before lighting it, ignoring how his hands were shaking as he did so.

“That was my first kiss. Just so you know,” Eddie said as conversationally as he could manage. He cast a sideways look to Richie, who blinked away the dazed look in his eyes before smiling wryly.

“Mine, too,” he admitted, before taking the blunt back from Eddie.


End file.
